Leave Out All The Rest
by UniqueInsanity
Summary: After an unforeseen accident, everything in Sara's life has changed. Things are no longer in her control. She's made relive everything from her past, in the form of therapy, to try and move forward in her own life, and relationships. But the extent of the effects of the accident are still not fully known to her. Please R&R. Strong themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I know it's been a while since I've been on this account, but I come with a brand new idea, which I am going to see through to the end.

This is going to be one rollercoaster of emotions, with quite a few dark themes. So, if you squirm easily, this isn't for you! Going to be filled with a lot of angst and drama, so hold in there, guys!

This is just a short intro, everything else gets longer, I promise. I have the second and third chapter done already, just need to be edited.

Please leave a review, it's been a while, let me know if you think I should continue with this or not!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing here, all to CBS, Anthony E Zukier and the rest of the great team. I just borrow!**

_**xxx**_

"So, Sara, what brings you here today?"

Sara gave a short almost sarcastic laugh. "What, you mean to tell me this was optional, Dr. Purcell?" She made a motion as if to leave, but remained in her seat. Humor seemed to be how she was dealing with everything at the moment.

"Well, no. No, I suppose not." Samantha Purcell offered with a kind smile. Her blue eyes were sparkling, filled with encouragement. "And please, call me Samantha. Dr. Purcell makes me feel so old."

There was something about her that eased Sara instantly. Despite not wanting to be here, she felt like she could tell this woman all of her secrets, and she would listen to her, and not judge her. This woman was only doing her job, Sara knew that.

She had been to many therapists, mostly as she bounced from foster home to foster home. None had ever made her feel so at ease - in such a short space of time - as Samantha did.

"Why don't you tell me a little about what brought you here?" She offered softly.

"You already know why I'm here. It's been plastered all over the media for days. It's on every radio station, every tv station, every cover of the papers. Reporters are practically camped outside the hospital. The distaste radiating from her was undeniable. Her lack of privacy now was not taken very lightly.

"Even if you somehow managed to miss all of that, I'm sure the doctors would have filled you in." She paused for a moment as she looked up to her. "I'm not crazy."

"I never thought for a moment that you were."

"And despite what everyone thinks, I don't have a death wish."

"You don't?" She asked with an arched brow.

"No." She replied firmly, shifting her weight on the couch.

There was silence in the room for a moment, as blue eyes met brown, both women considering their own thoughts for just a moment.

"Why don't you tell me about the accident, Sara?" She urged softly, wanting to gauge her starting point.

Every patient of hers was different. Sara seemed more driven and stubborn than most, but she could see the ghosts in her eyes, very clearly. She was good at what she did. It would take time, and trust, but she was sure she could get through to her.

Sara thought about it for a moment, her mouth went dry, her right hand clenched into a fist, her left still strapped tight across her chest in a sling, but her arm had been the least of her worries.

No matter how much she thought about what had happened that day - and she thought about it a lot - she couldn't seem to form the words she wanted to describe it.

"I don't think I'm ready to talk about what happened yet."

"That is perfectly fine, Sara. I won't push you to talk about anything that you don't want to talk about. We don't even have to talk at these sessions. Everything is at your own time. You set the pace."

Sara considered this for a moment. She had a feeling this could be of benefit to her. Samantha made her feel safe, and offered her a feeling of hope that she could work through this, and things may return to normal soon.

It was a long way off, but if she didn't think optimistically, she knew she would lose what little composure she had managed to retain. After another minute or two, she nodded at Samantha, signalling she was ready to continue, finished with her silent battle.

"Where do we start?"

"Why don't we start at the beginning?" The blonde suggested, and Sara blanched knowing what that meant, feeling her stomach lurch.

"Why don't you tell me about your family?"

_**xxx**_

**A/N: **Just the beginning! Leave me a review and let me know if you think I should continue, or just to say you enjoyed it!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sorry about the late update, been having problems with my internet! This isn't beta'd so any problems are my own. Thanks for the great reviews so far, guys! Plenty more angst to come!

_**xxx**_

It took her a moment to compose herself, having to try and swallow the bile that was threatening to make an appearance.

"My... My family? She had only ever told one person everything about her family, and although he had stayed whilst she cried, holding her hand, he didn't stay around for long after that.

"Yeah, it seems like a logical place to start." She said softly, trying to ease her into the subject.

Sara took a deep breath. It never usually bothered her this much, but she supposed that after such a stressful week, she was a bit more sensitive and vulnerable to these things. "I uh... I don't know where to start." It was true. There was so much about her family, she could write volumes on it, she didn't know where to pick her starting point.

"Well, were you an only child?"

"No, I have an older brother, David." Sara answered easily. She hadn't thought about him in a long time. She hadn't seen him in an even longer period of time.

"Why don't you tell me about him? What was your relationship like?"

Sara looked up to her, figuring she was sussing an easy starting point. If only she knew what she was going to hear.

"It was okay... I guess. We had a pretty good relationship. He used to read me stories beofre I went to bed when I was younger. It sort of changed when he went to highschool. He was six years older than me. I guess, for a teenager, hanging around with his geeky little sister wasn't at the top of his list." She said with a small forced smile.

"A typical older brother." Samantha said gently, speaking from experience, being the youngest of three, with two older brothers.

"Yeah, exactly. When I got a little older again, he used to take me out with him, but that didn't last long either. He used to bring me home books, so I could read them while he was out." He had always been good to her. Most of the time.

"Did you ever fight with him?"

Sara laughed softly. "Of course, we were brother and sister. I had a tendency to get him in trouble. With the best intentions. Playing hide and seek one day, I decided to hide under his bed. I found a bag of what I thought was dirt, under his bed. I dragged it out with me, going to put it in the bin, but my mother intercepted on the way. Turned out it was his bag of weed. He said he was keeping it for a friend. But that didn't wash. He was grounded for a year."

She couldn't help but laugh slightly as she thought back on the memory. In all her innocence she had managed to get her brother grounded for a year, and she had ended up in hospital with a broken arm that same night. Her dad had said something about being a tell tale.

"Why don't you tell me about your parents now?"

She tried not to look too hesitant at the thought of having to talk about them. "We lived in San Francisco while I was young. They used to run a B&B, but it was a hard business to break into. Mom ended up going back to being a cleaner, and Dad tried his best to hold down a job for longer than a week." The resentment was hard to ignore in her voice, but Samantha didn't press her on that for the moment.

"How did you and your Mom get on?"

Sara gave a small shrug of her shoulders, thankful for the leading questions, or she would have had no idea where to either begin. "Yeah, I suppose it was okay. For a while. I didn't really see her a lot... I didn't see either of my parents a lot."

"They worked a lot, and even if Dad wasn't working, he never spent much time at home during the day. I tended to stay after school sometimes, at the library, or with a teacher, when I could."

"You didn't go to friends houses after school, or them to yours?"

"I wasn't really the social type." That was an understatment. "I found it hard to make friends. It was easier to not focus on people, and read my books, do my school work. I guess I preferred a fantasy world to my reality."

"You used what you could to escape from your life. It's a coping method, in some. It's quite common." Samantha said softly, as she lifted a bottle of water to her lips, sipping slowly.

"I used it a lot." Sara admitted, her gaze dropping to her hand folded in her lap, suddenly very interested in the scratches that covered her pale skin.

"Why did you need to?" Her voice was level, inviting. She half expected Sara to call it quits right now. To finish the day. She wouldn't have minded, she didn't want to push her too hard on her first session. It surprised her when Sara nodded, ready to tell her this.

"When my Dad lost his job, he would go and drink. A lot. He would spend days drunk, which would lead to him losing any job he had. He could sober up for a few days, to get a job, and then to celebrate his first paycheck, he would start drinking again, which would lead to him losing his job. it was a vicious cycle." Sara informed her, keeping her eyes locked on her hand, flexing her fingers.

"When he got really drunk. He got abusive. First, it started off with him hitting Mom. I used to lie awake at night listening to her screaming, begging him to stop. That was when David would come in and read to me. I think it helped him too. I can remember that as far back as when I was four, but I'm sure it happened before that too. Before I turned five, mom got a job working nights. She was never there when Dad was angry. So he turned his attention on David and I."

"David took the brunt of it for a while, protecting me. But he never gave Dad much satisfaction. Looking back on it, he didn't scream like Mom did, or beg him to stop like I did. He was silent."

She took a break for a moment, leaning her head back against the cushion of the couch behind her. She took a few deep breaths trying to slow down her pounding heart. She greatfully accepted the fresh cold bottle of water that Samantha pressed in her hands, thanking her as she drank a few sips, trying not to over do it.

"You're doing great, Sara. Honestly, whenever you're ready."

Sara took a few more moments to herself before she opened her eyes again, straightening her posture.

"I was five, when I took my first trip to the hospital. I've had more fractures and broken bones than I can count. My mom was very convincing, and I followed her example. Told doctors I fell off my bike, or out of a tree. I played on the school football team, or I just tripped down the stairs. They seemed to believe it. If they started to ask questions, we changed hospitals. After a while, they stopped taking me. Only if it was serious. I got pretty good at tying my own slings." She was surprised at how easy it was for her to tell Samantha all of this. She had only told Grissom the ending.

"I was never allowed wear t-shirts, or shorts. Even when it was really warm, I had to wear long sleeves and trousers, all year round. Even though he was drunk, he knew most of the time to avoid hitting my face. But not always. A few teachers questioned it, and I was soon moved schools."

"Sometimes, Dad used to try and get David to hit me or Mom. Said it was the way men were supposed to treat women. When David would refuse... The beatings were... Incredibly harsh. I remember loosing a tooth one of those nights. In the end, David used to hit us, just so Dad wouldn't. That never lasted long either though, Dad would then beat us all afterwards. David used to never stay at home then. He was about fourteen or fifteen. He would stay in his friends house, or sleep it rough, rather than come home to Dad."

"On those nights, especially when Mum was working and it was just me and him, I would go straight to my room and spend my evening doing homework. I'd crawl into bed, going without dinner so I didn't have to see him. When it got dark, I'd take out my flashlight and read under my covers. Dad would come bursting into my room, I'd pretend to be asleep, but he'd drag me from the bed, usually by my hair. He used to get angry when he'd see my book. He tore each and every one of them in half one night. I think I cried more than I ever had that night."

She was telling the truth there. She tried not to cry or beg when he would hit her. She seen how it worked for David if he was quiet, but obviously her Dad favored her. Her books had been her escapism, the world she could lose herself in and forget about her own troubles for a while. With them taken away, she was lost. That was when David started bringing books home to her. He had no money, she had no idea where he got them from, but she did't question it.

"We can give it a rest for today if you want, Sara." Samantha offered softly, knowing how taxing this was. Heck, it was hard for her to listen to some of these stories, she could only imagine how it felt to actually have been a part of it.

"No... No, if I stop now, I'll never finish this story." She said, taking another moment to compose herself.

"There was one night, again I was on my own. I was nine. I tried standing up to him. I hit him back. He didn't like that." She absent mindly rubbed her right hand up her left arm, wincing slightly at the memories. She thought she had buried everything, but with the ease it all tumbled out, she figured that maybe she should have told someone about this a long time ago.

"He threw me down the stairs that night. And he had gotten new boots, too. Steel-toe cap ones. It was that night everything changed. I had been uh... Knocked unconscious. I remember my Mom coming in, stepping over me. Then everything went black again. When I came round... The air smelt weird and the house was quiet. My house was never quiet. There was always yelling, fighting. I managed to pull myself up, and drag myself to the my parents bedroom, they had a room on the ground floor."

"The door was open, and when I looked inside, Mom was sitting on the bed, and Dad was lying next to her. I thought for a moment he was sleeping. That's when I saw the blood. It was everywhere. On the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Mom was rocking on the bed, repeatedly saying how sorry she was. She wasn't apologising to him though. She was apologising to me. Then I saw the knife in her hands. Covered in blood. I should have felt bad. The only thing I felt was relief. I could finally close my eyes, and not be afriad he was going to come into my room again."

She shuddered slightly, stealing a glance at Samantha whose gaze was fixed steadily on her, a look of understanding on her face. She was the first person who didn't look at her with pity, and Sara appreciated that more than she could say.

"I blacked out again, and when I came around, there were flashing lights, cops everywhere, two paramedics in the room, one with Dad, the other with me. I had cracked two ribs, dislocated my shoulder and broke two fingers. And then we had the cuts and bruises. This young cop took one look at the blood in the room, and then me, and he emptied everything in his stomach there and then."

"I was led out of the room, and even I was covered in blood. I couldn't see my Mom... David still hadn't come home. A CSI, I now know, took pictures of me, I had to give them my clothes. They gave me new ones as the paramedics looked after me again, cleaning my cuts, wiping away the blood once the CSI got a sample. I heard one of them saying it was hard to tell if it was mine, or my Dads. Then a woman came to take me into foster care. I couldn't let go of her hand once she gave it to me. But I can't remember her name... Or what she looked like. Just the lights, the blood."

"After another while there, they took me to the hospital. I spent the night there, got some x-rays, bandages, a few stitches. Next day they sent me into foster care. I never seen David again. I only seen Mom twice after that... And I don't even know where Dad is buried. I didn't want to know."

To think that a child had gone through so much. She knew Sara was strong, but Samantha found a new admiration for the woman before her. She had seen some patients with similar backgrounds, but she had a feeling that this was only the beginning of the Sara Sidle story, and that there were many more chapters to come.

"How do you feel about what your Mom did?"

"For a long time, I felt angry, and confused. I was only nine. It took me a while to grasp it all. I know she did what she did to protect me. But part of me resented it. It was too late. I had been his victim for years, and she had never tried to protect me before. I had also gotten good at hiding what had happened, making it seem like I had a normal life. Well, as normal as anyone could have. After that night, everyone knew, and I could no longer pretend my life was normal. I could see it in everyones eyes."

"And for a very long time, I had assumed that my house, was a normal house. I had grown up with it. I thought it was how every family was. That night in the hospital, I soon realised that everything I had known in my life to be normal, wasn't. She had taken that away from me. As I got older, I started to understand more. My mother was a schizophrenic. I started to understand that she was as much a victim as I was. It got to a point where she could no longer take it, and she snapped."

"Do you forgive her, for what happened? For allowing it to go on so long, for not stopping it sooner, for making you lie about what happened, and eventually, for killing your father?" Samantha pressed softly.

"I've tried to... On more than one occasion. But it's hard. I blamed her for a lot of what happened to me. It's hard to forget everything."

"You don't have to forget it, to forgive her, Sara."

"It seems like the only way. Every time I think of what happened, I get angry all over again. So, I don't let myself think about it."

"I know it may sound condasending of me, Sara, but to move on from what happened in your childhood, to ensure that it won't affect your life now, or in the future, you will have to think about it, you'll have to forgive, but the demons to rest, so that you can move on with yout life. You have never really allowed yourself to heal from what happened, so you could never move on." Samantha leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"I guess, I felt that the bones healed, so everything else would in time." Sara mumbled, looking back down to her hands. "Are we finished?" She asked, her voice dry, shaky.

"Yeah, we can wrap up for now, Sara. You did fantastically today. But I need you to listen to what I've said. You need to work through your emotions, figure out why exactly you are still angry with your Mother, in order to be able to bury that anger, and not allow it to take over you." She paused for a moment as she stood and made her way to her desk, picking up her phone. "I'll call someone to take you back to your room - no objections - and I will see you same time tomorrow."

Sara took in what she said, nodding slowly. She guessed she wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Even if she tried, after everything that she just relived, she would be awake with nightmares all night.

A soft knock on the door signalled the arrival of the porter with the wheelchair to bring her back to her room. "Thank you, Samantha, for listening to me."

"You don't have to thank me, Sara. It's what I'm here for. I'll see you tomorrow." She said with a soft smile as Sara disappeared from the room, paler and shakier than when she entered.

Samantha shuddered as she sank down into her seat behind her desk. What an experience for a little girl to go through. She rubbed her head, and knew herself, those images that Sara had painted would keep her awake all night.

She was starting to understand more and more Sara's mindframe the day of the accident. And her actions that ensued.

Sara Sidle was not likely to be a patient she would forget anytime soon.

_**xxx**_

**A/N:** I know that was a long chapter, they get longer, and heavier, but it will be worth it in the end, promise! Give me a review, I give you an update, easy process ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks for all the great reviews so far, guys! Having a problem with internet, so in wanting to get this chapter up asap, I haven't read through it, so it could be filled with mistakes!

Please leave a review, let me know what you think, they mean a lot, and will spur me on to update faster ;)

_**xxx**_

Sara had been right, sleep had not come easy that night. Actually, it hadn't come at all. So as she found herself sitting on that rather comfortable couch in Samantha's office, she felt completely drained; emotionally, mentally and physically.

The bags under her eyes were testament to her lack of sleep, and as Samantha took her seant, this time on the other end of the couch to Sara, her body turned so she was facing her, she couldn't help but notice just how fragile she looked. She had a tiny, slim frame, covered in scratches on the visible skin she could see, her left arm bandaged and in a sling, her right leg in a cast, propped up with cushions underneath to support her.

This woman never seemed to catch a break. She made a mental note to have a word with doctors later. If she spent so much time in hospitals when she was younger, being back here would not jog good memories for her, especially after what happened, and the very restricted time and number of visitors she was allowed to have. She would suggest allowing her to have more visitors, for longer periods of time, and maybe the chance to get out of the hospital ward for something other than therapy.

"Did you think about what we talked about yesterday, Sara?" She offered as she handed her another cooled bottle of water, from experience yesterday, she picked up on the fact that Sara liked to have something in her hands to occupy herself when she started talking.

Sara shifted her body as best as she could so she could look at Samantha, but her casted leg was an obsticle.

"I thought about it. A lot. Kept me up for most of the night. I made a list of reasons why I've been angry with her. I found it was easier to write them down, easier to work through." It had been hard to put pen to paper, and translate her thoughts and emotions to words, but she managed to get a few opinions down. "I brought it with me, in case you wanted to see."

"No, no," She said with a soft shake of her head, brushing her straight blonde hair behind her ear. "You hold onto that for a moment, we'll come back to it a little later on in the sessions. For now, what do you say to continuing on from where we left off yesterday? Tell me about your time in foster care. You said you spent a night in hospital and were taken into foster care then, what happened?"

Sara nodded, expecting this move. She had to admit, she found it a relief that she wanted to hear about her time in foster care, and not about her mother. That was a hard subject for her, because she didn't fully understand her emotions on it herself. She nodded slowly taking a moment to think through on where she wanted to start from.

"You must hear about a lot of stories, children in foster care. I get a lot of it in my line as well... Some of the stories you hear... If I hadn't been in foster care myself, I wouldn't be able to believe half of what I actually hear."

"I remember coming out of hospital, and being led to a car, by the same woman who brought me to the hospital. I still can't remember her name, no matter how hard I try. She had gotten some clothes for me, from my room, she carried my bag for me because I was still too sore to carry it. I held her hand again. The whole way in the car. She tried talking to me, but I remember just looking out the window. I hadn't spoken to anyone, apart from asking where David was. I heard a nurse saying that he was being taken into care as well."

"All I could think of was that I wanted to see David again, and have him read me a story. That was what kept me going through that night, that journey. It didn't take long until we stopped, and she took me out. It looked like a nice house on the outside, it was at the end of the neighbourhood, with a nice garden in the front, trees all around. It looked so clean." She recalled easily, as if it was only yesterday she had taken that trip to her first foster home, not almost thirty years ago. She must have taken in a lot more than she realised, as a nine year old girl, who had lost everything in her life.

"When I got there, standing on the porch after knocking, I asked where David was, if he was here, and I was told that he was in a different foster care. I soon learnt to stop asking about David, because nobody could give me an answer. Miss Morgan came to the door then. She seemed nice, she took me in and the social worker came in too. They led me to my room, I shared with another girl, two years older than me."

"She emptied my bag for me, folded all my clothes and helped hang them up. she managed to get me one book my father hadn't torn up that night. Moby Dick. The rest of that night is a bit of a blur. She talked to me a lot, Miss Morgan, but I can't remember saying much to her. Emily, was the girl I shared the room with. She was quiet as well, so we didn't talk much. I tended to stay in my room. She had two other boys in foster care, both older than me as well."

"It was only when I got to foster care that first night, I realised that Christmas was less than a week away. Everything with Miss Morgan was fine. She was nice. She tried her best with us. The older boys were a bit of trouble, but she seemed to have a handle on them. She even got me new books for Christmas. I asked to see David again at christmas, when my social worker came back, and she said she'd try her best." She had tried everything she could think of to get to see David, but nobody seemed interested in him, or where he was.

"I wasn't far from my own house, so I was allowed to still go to the same school. It was horrible. The looks, the whispers. Everybody knew what happened, everyone looked at me, everyone talked about me. I was no longer the lanky, quiet girl who wore weird clothes, and was good at science. I was the girl whose father was stabbed to death by her mother. Even the teachers looked at me differently, treated me differently. Except for my science teacher. She used to come into us from the high school, to teach us science."

"She was the one person who didn't look at me like everyone else did. She didn't treat me any differently. She had always been nice to me anyway, because I was good at science. Before all of that happened, she used to let me stay after school, and she would teach me stuff from grades ahead of me. Things didn't change after that. She went on as normal. and she let me still stay after school. She even gave me a highschool science book, and at breaks, she would let me stay in the science room, so that I didn't have to be with everyone else, if I wanted."

"I can certainly see why you may have went into Forensics, if you had such a positive influence in your life with a science background." Samantha said with a soft smile, trying her best to lighten the situation when she could.

Sara gave a soft smile. It was one of the few fond memories she had as a child. "Yeah, Ms. O'Donnell was a big influence to me. She became one of the only people I trusted, even though we didn't talk about anything that happened, but I think that was why. She was the only person who didn't make me talk about what happened, and I didn't want to tall about it. I wanted to forget about it, and she gave me the possibility of forgetting about it, by giving me something that I loved, which was science." For a fleeting moment she wondered where she was now, was she still teaching science? She was cut off of her own thoughts soon enough with Samantha pressing on.

"How long were you with Miss Morgan, Sara?"

"Not long." She recalled easily. "Come... Mid April, I think, she lost her job, and she couldn't afford to have all of us any longer. I don't know what happened to the rest of the kids she had, but my social worker came back the next day and took me away. It took a while to get me another family. I was staying in like, a temporary house for us, it seemed like there were more kids than beds in that house. It was okay for a while, I was able to see out the end of my school year there. I kept to myself again, it was no real difference for me."

"First week into summer vacation, I got my new placement. A family with one son of their own, his name was Carl, he was four years older than me. They had another girl from foster care, she was younger than me, six I think, her name was Sophie. It's hard to remember all the different people."

"That's okay, Sara. Just tell me anything that you can remember. As I'm sure you know yourself, every little detail helps, no matter how insignificant you think it might be." Samantha reassured her softly, uncharacteristically reaching out to brush her arm, to try and encourage her.

Sara looked up at her, turning her head to face her with a small smile, to show her gratitude for the support.

"They were nice. Normal, it seemed. I had to move schools then. Everything was the same, I was still the strange girl who was good at science. It didn't take long for me to make an impression though, especially with the teachers. After a month, my foster parents were called into the Principal, astounded that it was about me, because I had been nothing but quiet at home."

"I remember sitting between them, swingin my legs, not able to look at them because I didn't know what it was about either. I just remembered any time David got in trouble at school, Dad was very angry. I didn't want them to be angry with me. But it was good news. They wanted me to skip a grade. My foster parents, Bill and Jean, they were so happy. They took us all out for dinner that night to celebrate. They had done the same only two weeks before, for my tenth birthday."

"It was the first birthday I've ever had where it was celebrated, where someone seemed to notice that it was my birthday, and I actually got some presents. The night we went out for dinner to celebrate they had a present for me too. They got me a whole new set of school stationary, all first hand, which I had never had before either. New school books, and even new reading books." It was strange for her talking about them like this. She hadn't thought about them in a very long time. It still astounded her that she could remember so much about specifiic times.

"I made a friend when I skipped that grade. In my science class, we were partnered together to work on experiments. Her name was Robyn, she was bad at science, and I was able to help her. She was quiet like me, but we seemed to understand each other. It was the first time in my life for a lot of things. The first time I felt like I belonged somewhere, the first time I had a family who cared about me, the first time I had a friend. It was a good time for me. I was happy there."

"Then I started getting the letters." She said with a small sigh, dropping her eyes to her hand, focusing her attention for a moment on the bottle of water she held.

"Letters from who, Sara?" She asked gently, although Samantha already had a feeling she knew who it was from.

"My Mother." She tried not to shudder as she remembered how she felt when she read that letter. "My mom had never really been abusive towards me, sometimes she would get angry, she would say something nasty, but she always apologised, blamed it on stress from work, or because she had a fight with Dad. I never really held her to that, until I got the letter. It was a side of her I had never seen before."

"She blamed me for not protecting her. She said I could have told the police she did it to protect me, that I did nothing and just let her be led away and I didn't try to see her. I didn't want to see her, I didn't know what I could say to her. She blamed all their fighting on me, said it only started when I was born, that I was the reason everything went bad with them."

"I believed everything she said for a long time, no matter what Bill and Jean said. After the third letter, I think they stopped giving them to me, because it just ended up in me crying myself to sleep for a long time, and becomming quieter than ever, more withdrawn into myself, if that's even possible. Carl and I became closer friends then. It was just the two of us left. Sophie's aunt had come to pick her up, and she went to stay with her. I often stayed up wondering if there was any family I didn't know about that would come and pick me up."

"But then I would feel guilty, because I loved Bill and Jean. Despite my promise to myself that I wouldn't let myself get attached to anyone again, I couldn't help it. I felt safe with them. They made me feel secure, and showed me what it was really like to have a family."

"Carl was like David, he reminded me so much of him. He seemed to care for me too. He showed me some of the music he listened to, I liked it too. we used to spend time just lying in the living room, listening to music. We played a game, we used to have to guess the name of the song in thirty seconds. I spent almost three years there with them. I really felt like I would spend all my time with them."

"What happened?"

"Well... Carl and I got really close. I guess you could say he was my first crush. We used to spend a lot of time together, he didn't treat me like a little girl. I used to have to help him with some of his homework, but he didn't even treat me as different then. He played baseball. We used to go to his games every Friday night. I usually found boys my own age boring, actually, I found most people my own age boring. I preferred to hang around with people who were older than me. I've always had a thing for older guys." She said with a small, forced smile.

It didn't go unnoticed to Sara that Smantha scribbled a note down after her last statement, and she had a feeling she knew what that was about.

"I guess it was one of those school girl crushes where the nerdy girl falls for the popular guy." She said with a small laugh. "It happened in the summerjust before my thirteenth birthday. It was Jeans birthday, we were having a party for her at the house. There was a lot of people there, family, friends, people she worked with. Robyn was there and so was Carl's friend, Mike. All of us hung out together, we were dancing, we had some food. Carl and Mike got their hands on some alcohol, they drank a bit, but not a lot."

"Later on we went for a walk, just the two of us, to the park. We were talking, laughing, and then he kissed me. It was nice... But then he didn't take no for an answer. He had just turned seventeen, and I was almost thirteen. He said everyone was doing it, that if I liked him, and wanted to stay in the house I would do this for him. For a few moments I let him continue. His kisses were hard, his hands were all over me." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, her body shaking slightly. There was a reason she didn't think back to the family, it was so that she didn't have to relive that night.

"I... I tried to push him off of me when he tried to put his hands up my shirt. But he got angry. He was bigger than me. He had more strength. I tried to scream, but he hit me, and then started kissing me, so that I couldn't scream. I tried my hardest to get him off of me. He ripped my shirt. I remember tasting blood, he had bit my lip. I remember trying to focus on that pain, rather than anything else. Then his hands went to my jeans..."

She took another breath. "He put one hand into my jeans... That's when I took my chance. I bit his lip then, hard. He pulled back slightly, and I pushed him, he stimbled but tried to hit me again, dragged me to the ground. He managed to get on top of me, but I um... I kicked him... You know, where it really hurts. He just rolled off of me, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I got home, I went straight to my room. I phoned my social worker, begged her to come and get me."

"She was shocked, I had been happy whenever she visited. I couldn't stay there. I didn't tell her why. By the time she arrived, I was packed and ready to go. I didn't bring anything they had given me, it felt wrong. I just grabbed clothes, a few of my own books, and I was ready to go. The party was still going on. I felt guilty that I ruined it. Jean cried, Bill held me, they begged me to stay, but I just ran."

"I was alone again, in a temporary foster care. I spent my thirteenth birthday there, once again, back to birthdays that went unnoticed. I didn't mind, I was glad to be away from there. It's harder to place teenagers. I was quiet again, I didn't talk to anybody. I had trusted someone, and he took that away from me. I allowed myself to cry when I was on my own. And the nightmares started again."

She was silent for a moment, and Samantha didn't speak, allowing her the time to recollect her thoughts.

"Can we... Are we finished, for the day?" She didn't think she could bring herself to talk about much more right now. She had talked about a lot that she had banished from her mind for a long time. It brought back painful memories.

"Of course, there is no pressure here Sara. You did, really well today. We'll pick up again tomorrow. I want you to get some rest, you need to keep your energy up, I know how emotionally and mentally tiring these sessions can be." Samantha said as she stood, once again making the phonecall for someone to come and bring Sara back to her room.

"Could you do me a favor, please?" Sara asked, her voice was shaky, there was a desperate need underlying.

"Of course, if it's possible, I'll do whatever I can, Sara." She said honestly.

"Will you tell them... Tell the doctors to let me see him... They won't let me. They say that after the first time they let me, it would be bad for me again... But I'm better now. I won't... I can keep myself together. I just need to see him. Please, tell them to let me see him"

The sheer desperation and vulnerability in her voice made Samantha's heart lurch. She wanted to, very much, to grant her the ability to see him, but she couldn't, not yet anyway. She was only starting her healing process, mentally, she couldn't do this yet. She touched Sara's arm softly, "I'm sorry Sara, I can't do that yet."

Sara hung her head, refusing to allow herself to cry, no matter how much she wanted to. No, she would show her she was strong, she could handle it, she could keep herself together. At least until she got back to her room, and could lock the door of the bathroom and cry. She nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, raising her head again to look at her.

The knock on the door came to signal the porter bringing her back to her room. She was relieved, because she could feel her resolve slipping.

"I'm sorry, Sara." Samantha repeated again, and she truly meant it.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Sara replied swiftly as she was helped into the wheelchair and then brought from the room. She really hated being brought around. As soon as her arm was healed she was going to insist on crutches, so she could get around herself.

Then, she would be able to sneak in to see him, she wouldn't attract as much attention as she did in a wheelchair.

She was not giving up on this.

_**xxx**_

Will we find out what has happened to Grissom? Leave a review, and I promise, it'll be soon! Grissoms fate rests in your hands!


	4. Chapter 4

_**xxx**_

Once again, sleep had not come easy that night. Unlike her tears.

She felt so alone right now. All she wanted was to see her friends, to see him. Doctors wouldn't allow it, they ruled she was still too unstable.

Thankfully though, Brass had insisted on coming to see her when she was first admitted. He flashed his badge, pulled a few strings, and forced his way in even if it was only for five minutes. He had smuggled her cell phone in, so she was able to keep in contact with the outside world, but it was nothing compared to the company that she craved right now. Real, physical companionship.

Seeing Brass was what she needed, he comforted her whilst he could, reassured her that they would have to let her into his room to see him soon, and he would ensure it happened. She was holding him to that promise, even now.

Right now, aside from doctors and nurses who told her nothing about how she was, only frustrating her even more, her only contact was Samantha, ad apparently that was how it would stay until she finished these sessions.

She would admit how angry she had been with her when she got back to her room. Seeing him would make her feel better, she was sure of it. She could hold herself together this time, she knew she had to if she wanted to see him. She had to be strong for him.

"So, are you still mad with me over yesterday?"

Sara just looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Sara, you and I are very alike. We are both trained observers. I'm trained to notice aspects of human behaviour, what is said and what is not said, and you are trained to notice the evidence, to tell the story. I knew you were angry with me when you left yesterday." She said with a soft smile, she was not offended by it. she would have been surprised if she hadn't been angry.

"It took me a while, but after crying for a bit, I was fine. I know you're only doing your job. The sooner we get through with these sessions, the sooner things can go back to normal." Sara said as she shifted again on the couch, trying to get comfortable again. She could tell this would be a long one.

"Sara, you cannot do these sessions just because you think it is what I want you to do, so you can get into him. You need to do these for you. You know you have went through a lot, and I have the feeling we have only touched the tip of the ice-berg. You have buried all of that, you have carried that burden your entire life. You must be getting pretty tired of lugging all of that around with you, am I right?"

Sara only nodded.

She was right. Every word. She was tired of dealing with all of this herself, but she could never bring herself to speak about it with anyone, until she was pushed into it now. Maybe it was for the best, so she could finally sleep all through the night, she could deal with a rape, or domestic violence case better, she could speak to people about things, rather than keep everything to herself and let it build up until she burst.

"You need to want to do this, Sara, not for me, not for the doctors, not for him. You need to do this for you. If you're not going to do it for you, if you're only telling me what you think I want to hear, I'll call the porter right now, and you can go back to your room, because you'd be wasting my time and yours." She knew she had to be forceful with Sara. It was the only way it was going to work.

"Should I make that call, Sara?"

Sara sighed. She knew she was right. She had to do this for herself, and only herself. Samantha was different to everyone else, Sara had a feeling that she could work her way through her problems with this woman, and come off better at the end. She knew it would be a long, draining process, but she was willing to do it.

She shook her head in answer to her question. "No, no, I'm here. I'll do this for myself."

Samantha hid her near smug smile. "Very good." She paused for just a moment. "And I will make a promise to you. You are aware of his condition at the moment, I promise if anything changes, better or worse, I will tell you."

"Thank you." Sara whispered, almost hoping she didn't have to tell her anything. No news was good news, after all.

Samantha smiled softly, glad Sara had accepted her peace offering. "How do you feel after yesterday?" She knew the answer she was expecting.

"Tired, very tired. And angry."

"Why are you angry?"

"Remembering everything I went through. What people in my life have put me through, people I've trusted. And how even to this day, I still let them have a certain amount of control over my life." She was beginning to think alot about what had happened to her while she was in her room, with only her thoughts to comfort her.

"It's only natural Sara. You have carried all of this with you your entire life. You endured more than most people would care to think a person could handle. You have every right to be angry." Samantha said gently.

"Is it normal to be angry with myself?"

"Tell me, why are you angry with yourself?"

"Because... I let this happen to me. I could have stopped a lot of it, but I trusted people. I should have learned to not trust them." Sara struggled to explain, trying to find the words to express her thoughts.

"Sometimes, Sara, the thing we tell ourselves the most, not to do, is what we crave. I'm sure despite telling yourself that you were not to trust someone, you craved having someone you could trust. Because of that, you would let your guard down, you would trust them, despite your warnings to yourself."

"So, in other words, I'm weak." She said almost bitterly. It was one thign she prided herself on not being.

"No, no, Sara. You are the furthest thing from weak. 'How can any man be weak who dares to be at all?'"

"Thoreau." She stated with a sad smile, remembering all the times he had quoted him before. It had become a game between them, to see who could come up with a quote that the other didn't recognise. A game of intellect.

Samantha noted her reaction, and nodded, with a soft smile."Very good." She did make a point to not quote again, noticing the reaction. "He has a point Sara. After everything you have been through, here you are, still standing, still fighting, still alive. It is a testament to your character that you can still find it in you to want to trust someone. Most people would have given up by now."

"I guess I still have a little faith left in me." She mused.

"And that is what makes you strong, Sara."

She gave a stiff smile, looking down to her arm set in the cast. She was sick of it, and the cast on her leg. It made sitting or sleeping comfortably impossible. And not to mention the itching that went along with it.

"Do you want to continue from yesterday?"

Sara nodded, not wanting to say much more, but she wanted to get this over and done with. The sooner she could finish this, the better. Maybe once they stopped her course of steroids to fight the infection she had happened to get from surgery, they might even let her go home, if she promised to come back in for her sessions.

She knew the drill by now, and she didn't waste time getting into the story, knowing the sooner she started, the sooner she could be finished for the day.

"After I left Billy and Jeans, I was in a group home for a while. It was probably the best group home I had been in. Emma and John really made an effort to make us all feel comfortable, and welcome, but this time, I wasn't as trusting as I had been before. I was pretty distant, I didn't make an effort, I knew there was no point, I wouldn't be there very long. I started highschool that september, the same one Carl had gone to, but I was glad I didn't have to see him anymore, he was in college."

"I was only with them for about two months, in the group home. Just before halloween, they found me foster parents. I wasn't too excited about it, I had lost count of how many homes I had been in at that stage. I got a new social worker too, her name was Hayley. She was young, kind, with strange laugh. She promised me this time it would be different. I wanted to believe her, I really did, but everything in my history told me not to."

"My new home was over an hour and a half away. I knew I would have to change highschools. I couldn't say I was too distraught at that, I was used to not knowing people, being the strange girl. I thought for a fleeting moment that things could be different in this new school. Nobody would know me, the only people who would know about my past would be my new foster parents. They knew about what happened in my house, yet they still wanted me. I couldn't understand why." It had taken a very long time for her to understand why someone would want to take on such a challenge, someone who was clearly damaged.

"They were waiting for me on the porch, it surprised me. They were older than the other foster parents I had. As soon as I approached, suitcase in hand, I was envloped in tight hugs, as I stood still, unwilling to accept that things could be different. Hayley stayed for a while as they showed me to my room. My own room. I was their only foster child. I found they had an older daughter, who was in her late twenties, working across the country. They said they missed having someone in the house to look after."

"Will promised at the weekend he would take me to the local DIY store, let me pick a colour for my room, pick out what I liked to decorate it. Ana said she would take me to get new clothes, and get stuff for school. I tried not to hold them to their promises, knowing people didn't keep them. But that weekend was different. We settled on a purple for my room, I got a big desk for studying, and a bookcase that Will helped me fill, with some favorites form his own collection, and by buying me some of my own."

"Ana bought me what seemed to be a whole new wardrobe, she even bought me short sleeved t-shirts. I could never remember wearing one before, never being allowed to. We got all my school stuff, and I started to get excited about it. I told them not to buy me things, not to waste money on me. I felt guilty allowing them to spend money on me if I was only going to be there for a short time."

"What made you think it wouldn't last?"

"Experience. Something always happened to ruin everything for me. I didn't want to get attached, only to be torn away again."

Samantha scribbled down another note, and nodded at Sara to continue.

She busied herself pulling at the fraying strings of cloth from the sling, twirling them around her finger as she continued on her story. "I started highschool the next week, once again, quiet, not making friends. I couldn't believe when I went to science class, I was shocked to find Ms O'Donnell there, apparently she had gone back to teaching highschool. It was good to see a friendly face, and she seemed pleased to see me too. I seemed to scare the rest of my class mates off that class, she knew how capable I was, and when I used to stay behind with her, she had covered highschool material. I was already ahead of them."

"I didn't mind though. I knew education was my way out. People had done nothing but let me down. School was where I felt comfortable, it was where I excelled, and nobody could take that away from me. Not my Dad, my Mother, or Carl. I stayed behind that day, without thinking to call Ana or Will. I was just talking with Ms. O'Donnell, she was interested in how I had gotten to here, gave me some textbooks on physics. I walked home after that, glad that they didn't live too far away. I met them on the porch again, I could tell something was wrong. They seemed angry, yet relieved. I went straight to my room, grabbed my suitcase and packed everything."

"Will came into me then, to bring me dinner, he didn't understand why my suitcase was sitting full on my bed. I told him I was sorry, and understood that they didn't want me anymore, that was why they were angry." She shuddered at the memory of how lost she had felt that night.

"He laughed at me, and pulled me into a tight hug, and I started to cry, despite everything, despite promising myself I wouldn't. Even though I was only with them for over a week, I already liked them so much, I didn't want to leave them. They made me feel safe, and I had not really had that in my life. Will held me until I stopped, and by that stage Ana had joined us too. It was like a full family hug on the bed, and I felt loved there, in that moment, more so than I ever had in my life."

"They told me how they were only worried about me, that I didn't call them, they had no idea where I was, and if I was okay. I never had to tell anyone where I was before, because nobody ever cared enough to ask me. But they did. They were so worried when I was a little over an hour late home from school. I had never experienced that before. They assured me that they would never send me away, that as long as I was happy there, I would be with them."

"Will left then, and Ana helped me unpack my things. She took the suitcase from my room, so that I wouldn't think I had to do that again. Will came back then, and took me down to his office, he had never let me in there before, but he said now that he wanted me to feel like this was my home, and that I could go anywhere. He said he knew I would love this, and he was right."

"As soon as we went into his office, I grinned, I can remember it so well. Three of the four walls were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with title after title. He was a college professor, in literature, and my God, did this room show it. He said I could go in whenever I wanted, and read whatever book I wanted to, as long as I promised to put it back."

She smiled fondly to herself at the thought. It had been one of the best days of her lives. She guessed there was easily a thousand, maybe more, books on those shelves. They were a dream to Sara.

"Over the next few weeks, he added more furniture to his office, which was big enough to allow it. He added another desk, for me to do my homework in there, even though I had one in my own room. He also added a large, cushioned swivel chair in one of the corners, with a lamp beside it, that I could curl up in and read. I had told him he didn't have to do that, but he insisted, saying he had always wanted one of those chairs too, but now he had an excuse to get one. I never once seen him sitting in it."

"After everything that happened in all my years in foster care before hand, I had promised I wouldn't get attached to people. I had made a promise to myself that I would only stay in the foster homes until I was eighteen, until I could leave and take care of myself. Things changed so much with Ana and Will."

"I changed, so much with them. I became happier, in myself. My nightmares went away for a while. I even made a few friends in school. People I could eat lunch with, talk with, laugh with. This was a time in my life that I had things that I never had before. I had a family that loved me, that did anything they could for me, I had friends. It was a strange feeling for me. I was still quiet, I was still the nerd, who came top of the class again." Her life had been so easy back then, in that one period, she could easily say was the happiest of her childhood.

"It was easy to pretend that my past had never happened whilst I was with them. I could pretend that I had spent all of my childhood with them and it had been happy. They made it very easy to do that. I used to go with Will to the college, he showed me the library, and it had even more books than the one we had at home. It was amazing. I used to spend a lot of time there while I was on holidays and he had to go into work. But, I also spent time with Ana in the garden, she loved gardening, and I soon developed a love for it too."

"It was nice to be outside, in the fresh air. It kept my mind busy, which was what I liked, but it was peaceful too, and I liked spending the time with Ana. She also loved taking me shopping, and although it wasn't my favorite thing, and I felt guilty that they spent so much money on me, I indulged her, and let her take me every now and then, but I always picked out really cheap things. I didn't feel as guilty, and she got to take me shopping. It was an unspoken compromise of sorts."

"But, she also liked to ask me to invite friends over. Both of them wanted to meet my friends that I had told them a little about. I never did invite any of them over, simply because I didn't want questions asked. I knew Ana and Will were older than their parents, and I didn't want nayone to discover they were my foster parents, then it would be harder to pretend that they were my real parents and that my past never happened."

Samantha easily sensed a shift in the mood and direction of where this was going. "What happened then?" She encouraged her gently, noting her hesitation as she once again started to play with the hem of the shirt she wore, keeping her fingers busy.

"It was just after I had spent a year with them, I turned fourteen and was a sophmore in highschool, still the youngest in my class having skipped a grade, but probably one of the brightest. It was a week, maybe two after my birthday that I got another letter. It was no surprise who it was from, wishing me a happy birthday. I didn't know how she knew where I was. Ana found it, when I threw it in the trash, and asked me about it."

"I told her about the letters before, and how I had not gone to her trial, simply becuase I did not want to see her. I never wanted to see her again. Ana understood, and we didn't talk much more about it. Until the next one came, once again like the ones I had recieved previously, abusive and cruel. Then another. I didn't even read it, it went straight in the trash. Same with the next one. But Ana and Will must have been worried, the must have been taking them out to read them."

"They sat me down one night, and once again, that irrational fear took over that they were going to send me away. They must have sensed it, and they quickly dispelled that thought from my mind, reassuring me they would never send me away. It did little to relax me though."

"What did they say to you?" Samantha pressed.

"They wanted me to go see my Mother."

_**xxx**_

**A/N: **Hang in there guys, a few more chapters before we learn about the accident and what state Grissom is in, and why exactly Sara isn't allowed to see him!

**Please** do leave a review! I've noticed the lack of them, and it's a little disheartening. Wondering should I still continue with this, if people aren't enjoying it, so please do leave a review, even if it's just a smiley ( or sad face) to let me know what you think, it would mean a lot, and I will get chapters posted sooner.

More reviews = faster posting = find out about Grissom! Simple ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in the update, guys, I have been majorly sick over the past three months, so much that I've had to drop out of college because I missed so much time.

Finally managed to gain the enrgy for writing, but this is un-beta'd and probably riddled with mistakes, so please forgive me, it is late and I want to post this for you all, so I'm skipping the proofreading (my laptop doesn't even have spellcheck!)

Want to thank everyone who has reviewed, pm'd me, added this to their alerts or favorites, or added me to their alerts or favorites, I really appreciate it!

_**xxx**_

"And how did you feel about going to see your Mother?"

"I was terrified." Sara said simply. "I had not seen her since the night my Father was murdered. I felt guilty, I took her letters to heart, I believed it was my fault she was in jail, it was my fault that she had to kill my Father. She blamed my birth on his drinking, and I had blamed myself. I always tried to be the best at everything that I did, so that my Father would be proud of me, and be happy. It never worked. I thought that maybe if I had been a bit better, or if I had been stronger that night, and not passed out, I would have been able to stop things from escalating as they did."

"You carried all that blame?"

Sara nodded slowly.

"When the people that are supposed to love and cherish you tell you something over and over again, especially as a child, it is hard not to believe what they say."

Samantha only nodded, not wanting to interrupt her too much whilst she told her story.

"I only nodded when Will and Ana asked me when I wanted to go, even though inside I was screaming that I didn't want to see her. I was terrified of what might happen. I was relieved as well, that they were not sending me away, that they still wanted me, and thye both promised me they would come with me, so I would not be on my own."

"I know now that they had been talking to a friend of theirs, a psychologist, who thought it might be a good idea for me to go and visit my Mother, and give me some closure. They spoke to my social worker who agreed, and organised the meeting, she too was going to come with us."

"About a week later, we made our way to the jail psychiatric facility the Judge had ordered my mother to whilst she served her sentence. I remember having to stop the car three times on my way in to throw up. I was shaking the whole way as we walked up to the front doors. Ana and Will stood either side of me, both holding one of my hands. I was only too grateful, because otherwise, I would have fled."

This was not an easy subject for Sara to talk about, and she was beginning to get frustrated with herself, because she was still allowing herself to be affected by memories from years and years ago.

"I can still remember the smell of the place. It smelt like bleach, really strong, I felt like I would never get it out of my clothes. I just remember it being white. Very white. With a lot of halls. I felt like I was walking forever. Eventually I found myself sitting on front of a glass window, with Ana and Will behind me, Ana's hand still loosely on my shoulder, and Hayley behind them. At that moment I really felt like I had a family. For one of the first times in my life."

"I had to run and throw up again, but I remember just dry heaving, I had nothing left to throw up. I made it back to the seat, glad that my Mother had not appeared yet. It felt like forever I was sitting there, swinging my legs, waiting for her to appear, but then it seemed all too soon she was sitting on front of me, staring at me."

"I wondered did she actually see me, I felt like she was looking right through me. I remember Hayley stepping up, introducing herself, Ana and Will, telling her that I had come to see her. I just sat there, staring back into her eyes. Eventually, after I felt Ana squeeze my shoulder, I managed to say hello."

"She eventually started to talk, she asked me where David was. I told her I didn't know. She was quiet again for a while. Hayley went to answer her phone as it rang. I tried to talk, to say anything, but I couldn't get my words out. I asked Ana and Will to go just for a few minutes, I felt like I needed to do this on my own, to face her. I could tell they were both reluctant, but they agreed, and stood and left, but I could still sense them near." Shivers ran down her spine as she recalled that moment all too easily. She thought she had out all of this behind her by now.

"As soon as they left, I remember taking a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat, and eventually being able to ask her a question. I asked how she was. It was the wrong question to ask."

She paused for a moment, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Samantha opened her mouth to speak after a moment of silence, to urge her to continue, but with eyes still closed, Sara pressed on.

"She pulled her chair forward, and leaned really close into the glass, and she beckoned me forward. I don't know why, but I guess because she was my mother, I did. it was like one of her letters again, only this time I couldn't throw it in the bin."

"She told me it was my fault she was there. hat I had always been a coward, too afraid to stand up to my Father for myself, leaving it to her and David to do for me. She said everything had been fine until I came along, that he had hated me and that was why he went drinking. If I didn't need so much stuff for school, he wouldn't have needed to work as much, which would have meant he wouldn't lose jobs and get angry."

"She blamed me for her being there, she said she hated me for not standing up for her, for protecting her like she had done for me. That she killed for me and I didn't care. She told me I was useless, that I would never make it. I would be just like them, and end up useless, with no job, alone forever, because apparently it is impossible to love a know-it-all like me. She said that was why I had no idea where David was, because he didn't care enough about me to come find me. He probably hated me as much as she did."

She could feel Samantha's eyes on her, but she refused to open her eyes and look at her, for fear she may lose it and start to cry.

"She continued to say Ana and Will would soon learn what I was really like, and that I would be as big a mistake to them as I was to her, and I would be left alone again. I just sat there, looking straight in her eye as she said all of this, in a deathly low whisper, as she glared at me. She started to get angry then, that she didn't see to be getting the reaction she wanted from me. She jumped up, knocked over he rchair and started banging on the glass partition, trying her best to get to me, as if she could break through it, screaming more obscenities at me."

"Will came rushing over, just as two security guards had appeared on moms side. She was dragged away, still kicking and screaming, as a nurse came with an injection to calm her. The effects were almost instant, she seemed to go limp, supported by the guards, and she was led back out and to her room, I'm guessing. I stood there just looking at the spot she had been in before Will led me out of there, meeting Ana at the door. They both put an arm around me, and we went home."

"They asked me if I was okay, they wanted to know what she said to me. I refused to tell them, incase they saw me differently, and what she said might come true. I went straight to the shower when we got home, and tried to scrub the place from my skin. I could still smell it when I got out, so I went back in. I think I showered about five times in total that night. I think that was when I started to become obsessed with germs and being clean, also. But, I just needed to wash that place off of me."

"And wash your mother away as well?"

"No.."

"You didn't want to forget about her?"

Sara was silent, as she turned to look at Samantha, biting slightly on the inside of her lower lip.

"Yes."

"You wanted to forget your own mother? Why?"

"Can we finish for the day? I'm getting pretty tired now."

"Not until we finish here, Sara." Samantha pressed firmly.

Sara sighed, taking a deep breath. "I didn't think of her as my mother. I didn't want her to be my mother. I didn't want to be any part of that family. I wanted Ana to be my mother, and Will to be my father. Not a drunken abuser, and a murderer."

"Why did your mother blame you for her ending up in prison?"

"I just told you." Sara snapped, getting irritated now.

"Why did your mother blame you for her ending up in prison?" Samantha repeated, a bit more forcefullt his time.

Sara heaved a frustrated sigh. "Because, she thinks I never told anyone she was trying to protect me."

"And did you?"

"Yes. It didn't matter though. She was still sent to prison."

"Who did you tell?"

"What does it matter?"

Samantha didn't reply, and after a moment, Sara gave in. "I told the police man who led me from the house that night. But I heard the case worker I had talking about it a few days later. She may have killed him to protect me, but she killed him whilst he was passed out from the alcohol. It could have just been another night, where he would wake up the next morning, apologise profoundly to me, I would wear extra clothing to school, possibly end up with another hospital trip. He wouldn't drink as much that night, but maybe the next, and the cycle would start again."

"I was angry at her, for ever letting it get that far. And for making things so much worse when she killed him. She didn't have to kill him, she could have just taken David and I and left. At least that way we would have some sort of a family."

"Did you believe what she said about you, that it was your fault? Did that make you angry too?" Samantha asked, her eyes watching every move Sara made.

"Yes, I believed her, and no, it didn't make me angry."

"Then why are you still so angry with her? What do you blame her for Sara, that you can't let go of?"

"Everything." Sara replied sharply. She avoided ever speaking about her mother to anyone, and this was why. She still had so many unresolved issues in her own mind, that she had just pushed away rather than dealt with. She didn't want to deal with them, she just wanted to move on, and forget about what happened.

"What exactly is everything?"

"Why do I need to explain this to you?" Sara's head snapped in her direction. "All I've done over the past few days is talk about the hell I endured in that house, with my family. Then everything I went through when she killed my father and I was sent to foster care, bounced from home to home and almost raped by someone I let myself care about. Is that not enough reason for me to be angry with her?" Her voice was much higher than it had been.

Samantha hated doing this, but the only way she could get Sara to talk properly, was to get her angry, otherwise, she wouldn't address her own feelings.

"She did that for you though, Sara, to protect you." Samantha tried to reason with her, her voice calm still.

"It was too late to protect me!" Sara yelled. "She should have protected me the very first night he hit me. Or the first time he knocked me unconscious, broke a bone, threw me down the stairs. Why did she not protect me then? She left it until it was too late, until I was damaged, until none of that could be taken back or fixed. I was broken. She did not protect me!"

"Is that why you tried to forget her?"

"Yes." Sara huffed. "I wanted nothing more to do with her, ever. I never wanted to set eyes on her again. She ruined my life as much as he did. His scars were physical, hers were emotional and mental, they take much longer to heal."

"Have they healed yet?"

Sara only looked at her, her cheeks were rosy with her frustration, her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into skin, her chest heaved as she tried to breathe, to control her temper. She could not remember getting herself worked up into such a state in a long time.

"What do you think?" Sara quipped.

"This isn't about what I think, Sara it's-"

Sara cut her off, her anger flaring again. "All of this is about what you think! It's up to you and what you think, to decide when I get to go home, if I can see my friends, if I can see the people I love! It has everything to do with you and what you bloody think!"

Samantha noted how she was shaking slightly, and opene dher mouth to speak, but Sara shook her head, and she pushed herself up from the sofa to stand, leaning on her good leg that was not in a cast.

"Forget it, I'm finished for the day. What do you think about that?" She snapped, as she started to hobble towards the door, refusing to allow herself to wince, to show she was in pain.

"I think you should let me call the porter at least to take you back to your room, and we can continue this tomorrow." This was good, this was what she needed to hapen. Sara needed it too.

Sara laughed, and paused at the door, leaning more on the handle than she should have been for support. "Want to know what I think? Screw what you think." And with that, she opened the door, and childishly let it slam behind her.

She took a moment, leaning against the doorway, breathing deeply as she tried to control herself. She took off again, starting to hobble towards the lifts, leaning against the railings to support her leg. Maybe she should have waited for the porter, but she was much too angry to spend another minute there.

She suddenly had an idea. She turned and made her way slowly to the reception. She felt slightly giddy inside at the thought of what she was going to do, but she also suddenlt felt sick and nervous.

The receptionist did not seem to pay too much attention to her as Sara asked her what floor she could find him on. She quickly rattled off the details after a quick search on the computer, and Sara took off again.

She made her way to the elevators once more, to the fourth floor, which intensive care was located on. She could feel her energy starting to slip, her leg screamed out in protest, and her head was swimming slightly. She forced herself on, trying to look as innocent as possible, and like she belonged there.

She made her way past the nurses station undetected, and despite her best efforts, her movement started to slow, and she had to lean more on the railing, but she pushed on. She was so close.

Her breath caught almost painfully in her throat as she finally set eyes on him. It had been just under a week since the accident, since she had seen him last.

Years burned in her eyes as she furiously swiped them away. She had never seen him looking so vulnerable. She stayed on the other side of the glass for a moment, taking in the sight.

Nothing could have prepared her to see him like that.

There were so many tubes and wires covering his body. What little skin she could see was bruised. The only movement was the slow rise and fal of his chest, which was assisted by the ventilator, she was sure. He had a tube down his throat, obstructing her view of his face slightly. He was obviously in a coma.

She wanted nothing more than to touch him, to hold his hand, assure herself that he was okay, that he was alive. She blamed herself for this. It was her fault he was like this. She should have never went in.

She stepped forward, her legs much shakier now and was just about to open the door when the bathroom door opened inside his room, and out stepped Lady Heather.

She did not notice Sara standing outside the room, as she sat in the chair beside his bed, taking his hand in hers.

Tears burned once more, but she would not let them fall. That should be her in there, holding his hand.

A sudden arm around her waist made her jump, a small cry leaving her lips.

"Hey, kiddo, relax, it's just me. I called your name, but you didn't respind." Brass said softly to her. He had seen her come up as he had gotten off the elevator. He knew she more than likely had sneaked up, and that made him smile slightly, That was the Sara he knew. That meant she was okay.

He had noted how unsteady she was on her feet, so he had disappeared to get her a wheelchair. He was not expected for the one-armed bear hug Sara envloped him in, holding tightly onto him. He held her, letting his hand stroke her hair.

Neither of them said anything, but he knew that she was getting some much needed comfort from this hug. He held her until she pulled away.

"Come on, you shouldn't be standing." He said as he helped her into the wheelchair, with no word of protest from her. She had over done it.

"Do you want me to take you in to see him?" He asked her gently.

Sara shook her head, dropping her eyes to her lap. "No.. Take me back Jim.. Please."

That was not the answer he had been expecting, but one glance into the room, and he understood why. He groaned inwardly, cursing Heather right now. This was putting more stress on Sara than she needed right now.

"Alright kiddo, let's get you back to you room." He said as he started to push her back to the elevator.

Sara said nothing, only nodded slightly once more, bowing her head.

Brass stroked her shoulder slightly, comforting her, as he pretended, for Sara's pride, not to notice her shoulders shaking as tears slid down her cheeks.

_**xxx**_

So, now we know the state Grissom is in. Does it get better? Does Sara go back to her therapy? And what about Heather?

Leave a review if you want me to continue, doubting this slightly, so please let me know!

Take care,

Rachel.


	6. Chapter 6

_**xxx**_

Brass helped her back to her room in silence, managing to sneak her past nurses and doctors without any questions being asked.

He helped her out of the wheelchair, and she sat onto the bed, and she pulled her legs up beneath her.

"How are you feeling?" Brass asked as he slipped into the chair next to her, reaching out to take her hand in his.

"I'm tired... I'm so very, very tired of being here. I just want them to let me go home. I'm okay. Physically and mentally, Brass. You know I am." She said as her eyes locked with his, as if silently pleading with him.

"I know, Sara, I know that. But, I think you need just a few more days here, to allow your body time to heal, before you go home. As soon as you go home, you know you won't rest." He said, trying to soothe her softly.

He knew both the department and the hospital were insisting on Sara completing her therapy before they let her leave.

Sara sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She refused to cry again, especially on front of him.

"How is the investigation going?" She asked, trying to change the subject, keep her mind occupied for a moment.

"It's... Slow. There is a lot to go through, but it seems to all lead nowhere... I'm sure there will be someone around soon to talk to you, get your side of the events." He said, not really wanting to get into the specifics of the case.

He did not for one second believe what the Doctors were saying about Sara. He knew her better than they did. She just went through a lot, and it got the better of her in the end. It was her personality, to think of other more than herself, especially someone she loved.

"I'm surprised nobody has been around already." She said, forcing a small smile. The truth was they both knew why nobody had been around yet. Doctors orders. Everyone thought she was fragile, and unstable. Nobody wanted to upset fragile little Sara. That was why the therapy was required.

She cringed slightly at how the last session had went. She wasn't doing much to prove herself as being stable. She would have to work harder on controlling her temper.

"How is uh... How is everything going here?" Brass asked softly, lifting her chin to look at him. He was worried about her, he didn't like leaving her here.

"It's hard." She admitted, not seeing the point in lying to Brass. She didn't have the energy. "I don't like talk to people, about my past... I never have. And she keeps pushing, and pushing. One minute everything is okay, then I'm getting angry, shouting, and hobbling out like a stubborn ass."

"See, I knew nothing was wrong with you. Still the same old Sara Sidle." Brass teased with a smile, and it grew wider as he seen a genuine smile cross Sara's lips.

"The guys miss you." He told her softly.

"I miss them too. Tell them I was asking for them?"

"Of course, kiddo. I'll do what I can in smuggling them in here... See what I can do about some proper food as well. I bet you could do with some of that."

She laughed softly, stretching out across the bed, lying back on the pillows. She felt exhausted after the events of the day. "Thank you." She mumbled through a yawn. "See what you can do about this cast, too?" She teased, but yawned again.

"I'll try my very best." He said with a smile, but as she yawned once more, Brass took that as his time to leave. He stood, and kissed her head, "Get some rest, Sidle. Brass orders." He grinned. "I'll see you soon, look after yourself."

"Thank you, Jim. It means a lot." She said as she watched him disappear.

His visit had lifted her spirits, distracted her from what she had seen. She had not had much time to dwell on what she had seen earlier.

What she knew, was that Grissom was okay. He was still alive and breathing.

She did not allow herself to think of anything else. She was too tired to think. Her body screamed for sleep, to recover the energy she had used up. She had exerted herself too much today, she knew that.

Finally listening to what her body needed, she closed her eyes, and was asleep within seconds.

_**xxx**_

Her own screams woke her up. She shot bolt upright in the bed, wincing from the sudden movement.

She panted heavily as she tried to calm herself.

She dreamt about the accident. Flashbacks assaulted her mind whilst she slept, and she seen Grissom, lying in that bed again. Only this time, he was not alive and breathing.

She didn't realise her cheeks were wet, until she rubbed at her face.

She pulled the covers up tighter around her, as she finally took in the room. She jumped slightly noting the body on the chair beside her.

She was a CSI and it took her that long to notice the other woman in her room.

"What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear we were done for the day." Sara said as Samantha sat forward on the chair. She looked as if she had dozed off, probably woken by Sara's nightmare.

She felt the blush creep up on her cheeks, embarrassed that someone else had witnessed this.

_Great, now she really thinks I'm crazy. Maybe they'll get me a room next to my Mother._

"You and I both know that session was far from finished." She said gently to her. "Look, Sara, I don't do this with the intention of hurting or upsetting you. You have locked everything away for so long, the only way you can let it all out is if you are angry. I have to get you angry, to get you to talk. I know you don't like talking to therapists, but trust me Sara, I have nothing but your best interests at heart."

"You have been through so much, and I want to help you work through it. You are such a strong woman, but there is only so much you can cope with on your own, so much your mind can handle. I can help you with this. If you let me."

Sara sighed taking a deep breath as she looked at her.

"I don't like it when other people try to control my life. I don't like the fact that everyone here thinks I'm crazy. I don't like that I can't see my friends, that I can't see... That I can't see him... I don't like that I can't go home. I know it all comes down to wether or not you think I am crazy. In fact, I hate it."

Samantha watched her carefully, pushing her blonde hair behind her ears, a small smile tugging on the corners of her lips. She readjusted her designer glasses, her eyes still on Sara. She was already making so much progress. Maybe Sara couldn't see it, but she sure could.

"For what it's worth, Sara, I do not think you are crazy, insane, nuts, psycho. Whatever you want to call it. But, I do think you have a lot of demons, and you have to work through them, before you self-destruct, and let them take over. I came here to make a deal with you."

She smiled slightly as Sara seemed to perk up, sitting forward slightly in the bed, an eyebrow cocked in interest.

"I'll give the Doctors my report, I will tell them that you are free to go home, as long as your are physically fit enough to do so, and to no longer withhold you from seeing your friends. For all intensive purporses, the report will state you are mentally and emotionally healthy."

Sara was still a little hesitant. "What's the catch?"

"You continue your sessions with me. I want to continue to see you everyday, until I deem otherwise. If you stop seeing me, I won't hesitate to get in contact with the department." She wagered.

Sara took a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay, it's a deal. I'll continue with these..." She wasn't sure how she felt about having to continue with them, but she was sure that she would have sold her soul if it gave her a chance to get out of here.

"When will you tell them?" She asked, eager to get out of here, to see her friends again.

"Well, once we wrap up the session from earlier on, I'll make out my report."

Sara sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the pillows once more. "Fine... I'll come by tomorrow."

"Actually, I was thinking we could finish it now. I'm off the clock, and well, I'm sure you want to get these finished as soon as possible." She didn't know why she felt such a tie to Sara, but she felt like she had a much stronger bond than she did with other patients. There was a bigger urge to make sure she came out of this okay, an almost protective streak. Maybe it was because she could see the ghosts in her eyes as she recounted every minute detail of her past.

"Let's do this, then." Sara said as she propped herself up on the bed. She felt a bit more relaxed, it was not in the office, it was neutral territory, sort of.

"Whenever you're ready, Sara." Samantha encouraged.

"Where do you want to go from?" Sara asked, a little unsure, not wanting to reapproach the subject of her mother so soon. She was exhausted still from the exertion earlier. She could not handle having to discuss her mother again.

"How about the rest of your time in highschool? If I've been listening correctly, you have two years left in highschool before you finish? Why don't you tell me about what happened then?" Samantha led. She found herself hoping it would be a light enough discussion.

She knew more than most people the demons some people had to face in their lives. At the age of fourteen, Sara Sidle had faced more than some people could imagine. She hoped there was not much more to add to the list, yet somehow she knew their sessions were nowhere near finished.

Sara readjusted herself on the bed, with a little help from Samantha, to ensure she did not hurt herself. She prayed she could get rid of the cast and sling soon. They made her feel bulky and clumsy. Not to mention the cast itched like hell.

When she procrastinated as much as she could, she finally nodded. She didn't know why this felt much harder to do. Those last two years in highschool were probably among some of the best years she had as a child.

Maybe it was because of their last session, she was still a little weary, despite Samantha's explanation to her.

Maybe it was because of what she had seen earlier. Grissom, alive, but with a machine breathing for him. Heather, looking beautiful as always, by his side, holding his hand, where she should be.

Maybe he wouldn't want to see her. It was her fault he was there, afterall.

She sighed, swiping at her eyes, before she forced a small smile on her lips. She was thankful for Samantha's patience with her, and the fact she did not push her unless she had to. She was different to every other counsellor she had been to over her years, and that list was long.

"They were good years. Until the end. But.. They were probably some of the best. I started to become more, confident in myself, I suppose. I had Ana and Will to thank for that. For a while, I was actually able to forget about everything that happened. I was able to pretend that they were my real family, and they really made me feel like that. I felt happy with them. More so, something I could not remember feeling in all of my life beforehand, I felt safe. They showed me what love really is. The love between them. The love for family. It was amazing to me."

"I suppose I started to talk more in school. I eventually made friends. I think Ms. O'Donnell had something to do with it. She always seemed to be looking out for me. I have her to thank for a lot of the happiness of those final two years in highschool also. We were given lab partners in the September of eleventh grade. I remember because it was the day of my fiteenth birthday. She picked our partners, and I remember the smile she gave me just after she announced I was paired with Jack."

"It was one of those knowing smiles, her blue eyes twinkling. I never did thank her for that. Jack Keenan was sixteen years old at the time. He was just as good at science as I was. Although, his strength and passion lay in biology, mine was physics. Still, he was actually able to hold an intellectual conversation. I was not one of those girls who would sit and giggle as guys spoke about sport, and their triumphs, twirling a strand of hair around my fingers. I actually liked people with intelligence. Which, was hard to find in fifteen and sixteen year olds."

Samantha smiled softly to herself, glad that Sara had eventually experienced some happiness and stability in her life. Even if, as Sara's earlier comment led her to believe, it was only for a short time before something else happened.

"He was the perfect gentleman. He seemed to be as shy as I was. Over the first few weeks we barely spoke, really, other than talking about anything related to the lab work we had to do. We ended up staying after school, unintentionally meeting each other in the library, doing research for the project she had given us to complete. We ended up sitting in the library and talking for well over an hour. It started off as school related, and then soon turned to ourselves."

"I had never talked so easily to someone before, or felt so free to do so. I knew it had to be a side effect from Ana anad Will. Of course, I didn't tell him the truth about them being foster parents. I learnt he was the youngest of three, with two older sisters. His mother was a elementary school teacher and his Dad was a physical therapist, which was where Jack got his love of biology from. He walked me home that evening, saying it was on his route home, but as the weeks went by and we got closer, I soon learned that it was not on his route home, but Jack was just a really nice guy."

"Soon, we were spending lunches together, and he would walk me home ever day after school. We started spending time at each other houses, with the excuse that we needed to work on this project, even though we were more than ready for it. No, we just wanted to spend more time together, but were both still too shy to admit it. Christmas came and went, along with the deadline for the project, which we won. We suddenly had no more reason to talk to eachother. That was the way it should ahve went. But we couldn't stay away."

"He had become my best friend. We were able to talk about anything and everything. He made me laugh so easily, he had such a genuine heart, but he was also able to hold a debate with me, and would even win. He liked to play chess, and he would teach me on some of the days when I was at his home. I never bet him once, unless he let me. It was mid January, he asked me to be his girlfriend. It didn't take me more than three seconds to say yes. We had our first kiss right there. It was nothing like Carl. It was a little clumsy, yet sweet." She laughed softly to herself as she recalled that is had taken place in the school library. It seemed fitting. It was where their friendship had began and blossomed into a relationship over the span of four months.

"About a week or two later Ana asked me was Jack my boyfriend, and I said yes. I guess she noticed a change in me, and I didn't see the point in lying to her. She smiled, and hugged me, and said she was happy as long as I was happy, but if I ever needed to talk, to not even hesitate, she would listen no matter what. I decided I should tell Will, too, but that was a lot harder. I think Ana tipped him off, because he came to me on the swing on the front porch. He pretty much said the same as Ana, as long as I was happy, he was happy, but to remember that Jack was not to become the only man in my life, and I should always keep room for him in my life."

"He hugged me tight and I actually cried. But for the first time, that I could ever remember, it was not in pain, sadness, fear or anger. It was happiness. I was doing extremely well in school. I had friends, Jack's friends had become mine also. I had a boyfriend, and a bestfriend, all in one. I had parents who loved me. Everything felt like it was going to be okay, for once."

Sara smiled fondly at the memory. It was one of the few that was not tainted with the hell she had been through as a child, and as it continued into her teenage and adult years. It was a genuine memory that she could recall fondly, and feel nothing but happiness at.

"Ana and Will insisted the following weekend that Jack come for dinner. I was nervous, incase he might notice something. I knew they were older than your average parents at my age, but he didn't seem to notice much. Him and Will got on quite well. Jack had a love for reading also, and when Will showed him our library - which had grown extensively since Will had first shwoed it to me - Jack stood speechless. The soon got on to talking about sports, both seeming to have an interest in basketball. Ana asked what he wanted to do when he left school, and he was still unsure."

"The conversation was easy between us all, we had a lovely dinner and I was glad that my favorite people all liked each other. Jack and I spent some time sitting out on the swing on the porch, we tried not to notice Will looking through the slit in the curtains every now and then, but we soon dissolved into fits of laughter. It was so effortless. We talked about everything and nothing. Sometimes not even needing to speak, we were just happy in each others company. Will drove him home that night, and before Jack left, he kissed me again, a briefer kiss than our first, but still as nice."

"It was the next day that he floored me. He wanted me to meet his parents. They had stated they wanted me over for dinner, to return the favor, and get to know me. I was terrified. I knew they wouldn't like me. I was amazed how Jack liked me, I knew I was just lucky, but I didn't expect his parents to. I tried to make excuses, but Jack saw through them. he held my hand and said everything would be fine. Unlike when my mother did the same - usually on the way to the hospital - I believed him. It was good to be able to trust people in my life again."

There were only ever very few people that Sara trusted. Even now, her trust was not something easily gained, nor was her love. But, it had been said of Sara before, that once she loved you, that love was for life. Samantha could very easily see that quality in her. She had so much love to give, although it was restricted to a certain number of people, it still amazed her that after everything she had been through, she could still love as wholly as she did.

"And, how did that dinner go?" She asked with a small smile.

Sara chuckled, and it was a geuine laugh, followed by a near full Sidle smile. "It was surprisingly well. I had never been clumsy, unless I was extremely nervous, but despite breaking two glasses, and spilling the gravy, everything went fine. They found my butter-fingers endearing, and I could see where Jack got his easy-to-talk-to nature from. His Dad tried to convince me to go into Physical Therapy, as he had been trying to do with Jack. He said he had heard so much about me, and how intelligent I was, that I would make a fantastic physical therapist."

"Sandy, his Mother, argued, that a mind like mine should not be wasted in a hospital, but I should go into teaching, to inspire and lead the younger generations, so that the future had some who were as bright as me. They gave compliments very easily. But it was then that I actually started to think, what was I going to do with my life? I had a year and a half left in highschool, and then it was time for college. I knew my college course did not determine what direction my life took, but it was a big deal."

"I had no idea where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do. The thought was overwhelming. I voiced my fears to Jack when we were alone later, and he assured me that I would figure it out, and not to worry, because I could do anything that I wanted to do, and what was meant for me, would not pass me. So, I forgot about it for a while. Everything was great for the next few months. Jack and I grew closer, to the point where I started to think about telling him about my past." Sara sat forward slightly, still remembering the turmoil she had faced in trying to make that decision.

"I was terrified it would change everything between us, and I would lose him, I would lose the happiness and safety he had given me. I talked to Ana about it, and she insisted it was entirely up to me, and that she felt Jack was not the kind who would let it bother him. I was still hesitant. So, much like the thought of my future, I pushed it away for a while."

"What started to change then?" Samantha pressed, getting the sense that this story was going to change for the worst.

"Reality caught up with me, and I became convinced that maybe I was never meant to be happy. Maybe I was forever going to be lulled into that false sense of secuirty, to feel safe, happy, loved. It had happened with Mum and Dad, then again with Carl, again in my time with Ana and Will, when I went to college, and even now... With Grissom." She paused, taking a deep breath.

"Yes... That summer everything changed again. And I truly started to believe that happiness was not meant for me."

"What happened?" She knew Sara was avoiding the problem. She didn't want to discuss it.

With tears shining in her eyes, Sara opened her mouth to speak, but the lump in her throat prevented it. She took a moment to re-compose herself, swallowing hard against the lump. "Ana was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer."

_**xxx**_

**A/N:** So, we are learning more and more about Sara's past.

And, getting more and more clues about the present. Anyone want to guess what the accident was? One reviewer thinks Grissom cheated on Sara with Lady Heather, and Sara tried to kill him Anyone else want to guess what could have happened?

**Please** leave a review if you want to read more, let me know, so I know people are enjoying this.

Take care,

Rachel.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hey guys, happy new year! Hope you all had a great Christmas. Sorry for the delay, my muse has been eluding me, unfortunately.

I know a lot of you are getting a little impatient, wanting to know what happened with Grissom and Sara to lead them here. I promise, all will be revealed soon. I am leaving some hints, so read carefully, and you may be able to guess. Does it have anything to do with Heather, as a lot of you seem to think it does?

Anyway, thank you to everyone who is reading, who has reviewed and pm'd me, added it to alerts or favorites. I appreciate everything. Please, be patient.

_**xxx**_

Sara found it impossible to sit still any longer on the bed. She needed out of it. She shuffled to the edge of the bed, and swung her legs over the side, with a little more effort than usual thanks to the cast on her leg.

Ignoring the extended hand from Samantha, Sara pushed herself to her feet and hobbled away, dragging her leg a little. She perched herself on the window sill, taking the weight off of her leg.

She glanced out the window, looking at the darkening sky, the unmistakable twinkle of the lights from the strip casting a soft glow set against the descending darkness.

She sighed, and for once, she couldn't wait to get onto the strip, just to be out, and free. All she had to do was finish this session, and then tomorrow morning, the Doctors may let her out of the hospital, after weeks secluded on her own.

Still, she found it extremely hard to finish this part of the session. Her last year in high school was one of the hardest years of her life.

She sighed, and pushed her hair behind her ears, turning her head to look at the sparkling, understanding blue eyes that were now turned to face her.

She was getting frustrated with these sessions already. She just wanted to be out of here.

"Whenever you're ready, Sara." Samantha urged softly, knowing that Sara would procrastinate, and continue to put this off, but she needed to finish this.

Sara nodded, and blinked hard against the rapidly forming tears burning at her eyes. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, and cocked her head slightly to the side, taking a deep breath to try and calm herself.

"We found out near the end of that summer. Ana hadn't been well for a long time, she had lost a lot of weight, and she was always tried. Only when she was diagnosed, did I noticed how thin her hair looked. They sat me down one night when I came home from Jack's. It was the first time they sat me down like that, that I didn't think they were sending me away. In the end, I wish they had told me they were sending me away, rather than what the told me."

"Apparently she had been getting treatment, I never noticed because I was at school, or at Jacks. None of the chemotherapy had been helping. They tried everything, but she decided she wanted no more, she would take what time she was given, and try and make the most of it. I couldn't speak, I couldn't say anything. I got up, and I ran."

"I couldn't take it, I couldn't bare it. I was going to lose my family, the only family I had ever really known. The only ones that made life worth living for me. Will came out after me, but he couldn't keep up. I just kept running, I couldn't stop. I couldn't breathe, i couldn't think. Everything was crashing down around me. My whole world had been turned upside down in a matter of minutes."

She closed her eyes as if to protect herself against the sudden flood of memories as she remembered exactly how she felt that night.

"I didn't realise where I was until I was there. The local church. i didn't know why I was there, what brought me. I had never believed in God, never really gave much consideration until then. But I felt angry. Ana believed. Ana was a good person, one of the best I have ever known. I was angry, with the God that she believed in so much, why would he do this, why would he hurt such an amazing woman, who had shown me love, life, family? I wanted answers."

"After sitting in the dark in the church for a while, I realised someone was sitting behind me. When he cleared his throat, I knew who it was, and without turning, I asked how he knew where I was. Silently, he stood, and slipped in beside me, pulling me to him. Will had phoned Jack, and Jack knew where I was. He just held me. He didn't ask me anything, I assumed Will filled him in on what was wrong."

"I cried. I cried a lot. I was hysterical, but he held me tight, brushed my hair back, and kissed my head every now and then. After what felt like forever, I stopped crying, and was able to pull away from him. He smiled, wiped the rest of my tears away, and promised he would always be with me. I didn't say anything, because right there and then, I didn't believe in always. Ana and Will said they would always be my family, but I knew that was going to be shattered."

"He walked me home, and Will met me at the door, worried out of his mind, I apologised, and went straight in to Ana. I lay on the bed with her, and we talked and cried, and we fell asleep."

She opened her eyes, and looked back out the window to the now completely darkened sky, illuminated by the lights from the strip below. She couldn't bring herself to look at Samantha just yet. She needed to finish this.

"I started back to school the next week, the final year in highschool. Will and Ana tried to keep everything as normal as possible, but things had changed in the house. We weren't as happy anymore. I had reverted back to being more quiet, barely speaking. I spent less and less time at Jack's house, he would come to mine, and would help me around the house. I had taken up most of the chores, the washing, cleaning and cooking. Ana insisted that she was okay, she could do it, but she got sicker and sicker with each week that passed, more frail and less energetic. She spent most of her time in bed."

"She was constantly in pain, on some really heavy pain medication. Will spent most of his time looking after her, he had given up the work he did around the university, to care for her full time. I tried my best to help out, but they insisted that I focus on my school work. Ana made me promise. She told me that I was the most intelligent person she knew, and with a brain like mine, and the determination I had, no matter what I decided to do, I would master it. But she also made me promise I would do something that made me happy."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to control her emotions. It was a habit she had picked up from a certain Graveshift supervisor.

"When they told me the truth about her diagnosis, she had been given eight to twelve weeks to live. She made it to Christmas. The weekend before. She fought unbelievably hard. Until the very end. Will always said how good it was that she died peacefully, in as much comfort as she could be, in her own bed, in her own home, with those who loved her sat by her bedside. We were all there. She had slipped into a coma, she felt no pain, her breathing just got slower and slower, until it stopped." She swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in her throat.

Even Samantha felt herself having to clear her throat at this stage. She felt she had grown an attachment to this woman through Sara's memories. She also felt the pain for the then sixteen year old Sara, who had experienced more than she could even say she had, in such a short number of years. Life was cruel, that was one thing she had learnt on this job. it spared nobody.

"It was a quiet ceremony, only family and close friends. I didn't cry, I couldn't. Will needed me. He cried. He cried a lot. He lost the one person he loved the most in his life. I had to be strong for him, to help him through it. I tried my best, I continued the cooking, cleaning and washing, as well as my school work, and balancing my relationship with Jack. It was intense, and stressful, but I managed it."

"A few weeks passed, and Will started to smile again, he started to go out, and take over the chores in the house again. He made me only focus on my stidues, which I threw myself into. Time was ticking, it was mid February now, and I had to decide what college I was going to. I had assumed that was something I would discuss with Ana and Will, but she was no longer there, and Will said he would support me in any decision I decided to make. But, I now had someone else to consider in the equation; Jack."

"He had decided to follow in his Father's footsteps, and he was going to stay local, and go to the college his Father had gone to. He wanted me to stay and go to colleger here too, and I thought I wuld be happy about that. I thought it would be the best for all of us. I could stay and make sure Will was taking care of himself, and I could see Jack everyday, as if nothing had changed."

"But, I had to listen to my promise to Ana. I promised her I would work to my full potential, and I would do what made me happy. Physics was what made me happy. And, when Ms. O'Donnell pressed the Harvard prospectus into my hands, and urged me to apply, I did. But, I told nobody. Their physics programme was the top one in the country, I knew it would be extremely competitive, the stakes were high, and I would probably never get there."

Sara gave a slight smile, and she turned her head to look at Samantha. She had not went into much detail about what happened with Ana, she rarely thought about it, she found it too painful, still, to hink about loosing her. This was an easier subject to talk about.

"And, how did that turn out for you, Sara?"

She smiled softly to herself, her eyes shining still with the same delight she had when she opened her letter from Harvard. "Weeks later, I got my acceptance letter. Not only had I been accepted, I had been accepted on a Scholarship programme. It turns out, Ms. O'Donnell wrote a fantastic letter of recommendation for me. Here I was, at sixteen years old, and I had done what Ana had asked me to do. I was living up to my potential, doing what made me happy."

"It was supposed to, anyway. But, I struggled with it. I would have to leave Will, and Jack. Will had already lost his wife, I felt guilty having to leave him too. As for Jack, he had become someone I counted on for so long, he was my best friend. How was I to leave him too? I could have very easily stayed, as they wanted me to. I graduated at sixteen as valedictorian, and there was a celebratory dinner with Will and Jack, and his family. I just kind of blurted it all out there and then, that I was going to Harvard, I wasn't staying there."

"I knew straight away Jack was hurt, but Will only showed pride. He beamed uncontrollably, pulled me into a tight hug, and told me just how proud he was of me. Jack said he was proud of me too, but I knew he wanted to talk to me later, when we were alone."

"What did he have to say?" Samantha pressed.

"He told me he was hurt that I hadn't told him I was applying, or that I was thinking of going somewhere across country. I told him things would still be the same, we could still talk every day, and I would see him at holidays. He smiled then, agreed things would continue, and then hugged and kissed me, told me he was proud of me, and that I should follow my dreams, and not limit myself. I had a feeling he felt he was also limiting me, but I assured him he wasn't." She paused for a moment, it astounded her just how well she could remember all of this. She had supressed it for so long, not allowed herself to think about her youth, but now it just flowed so freely.

"The summer passed quickly, with preparations for Harvard. We took a weekend trip there, Jack came with us. I had applied for on-campus accomadation, and it was granted, probably because of the scholarship I had obtained. I would be sharing, but I didn't mind that. They helped me move some of my belongings up there the week before I was due to leave, so I wouldn't have much to bring with me the next time."

"My last night at home changed everything. There was dinner in our home, just Will and I. He had invited Jack, but I wanted to spend some time on my own with Will. Again, he told me how proud he was of me, and how proud Ana would be of me. There was a few tears, shed on both sides, and he made me promise I would phone him every day, even just for a minute, to let him know how I was getting on. It was a promise I was determined to keep. After dinner, I met with Jack, he came to my house, and we went for a walk. We walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until we ended up at the park where I had ran to months before when I first found out about Ana."

"We didn't do much talking. We had said everything we needed to say to each other, and we had never really needed to speak much, we could read the other so well. We just say, beside each other, looking up at the stars. I knew I would miss him, I would miss everyone who had become my family, but I was excited to start this new chapter, to begin the course on physics."

She paused for a moment, looking outside once more as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's just say our relationship changed that night, we both changed, we both lost our virginity that night. We became closer than ever, just before I left. He walked me home, and we had another kiss, before he left to go home, and I went to bed. I cried for a bit, missing him already, missing the family Will had given to me, the love and security he had provided me."

There was a moment of silence, and Samantha reshuffled, as she leaned forward. "I think we can leave it there for now. I feel college is going to be another chapter, that we probably don't have the energy to go through tonight."

Sara sighed slightly with relief. She was exhausted already with that session over and done with, but there was still one question more important to her than rest right now. "So, you'll talk to the doctors then, and tell them I can go home?"

Samantha smiled and nodded, those beautiful blue eyes shining. "I always keep my word, Sara. I'll talk to them right away, and make my ruling. I hope you keep your word, and return to me. You can take tomorrow off, get settled in back home and rest, but I want to see you the following day. We still have much to discuss."

Sara nodded, and thanked her for her support, and more so, for getting her out of this personal hell.

She settled herself back in bed, and closed her eyes. As soon as she did, she felt herself being dragged into the realm of sleep, but it wasn't an easy one. She dreamt of Ana, being by her side during her last few moments, but it soon morphed, and instead, she was holding Grissom's hand as he took his last breath. When she looked up, she was met with the faces of her team, her family, all of them said the same thing to her, it was her fault he was there.

Even in her sleep, she could not escape the guilt she felt.

_**xxx**_

**A/N:** Things may be looking up for Sara, but I don't think it will remain that way for much longer! Leave a review, and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

_**xxx**_

_"It's your fault. You did this to him. If only you had listened, obeyed the rules, he wouldn't be where he is now."_

_"No... No, I didn't mean to. I was only trying to help... To help him." Sara insisted._

_"But you didn't. You only made things worse. Look where he is now." _

_"Look who keeps his bedside warm now. Beautiful Heather Kessler, everything you are not, everything you have ever wanted to be. Beautiful, alluring, mysterious, she commands all attention, especially Grissom's. He is infatuated with her."_

_"It doesn't matter about her. I don't care. I only care about Gil." _

_"If you cared about him, he wouldn't be in a coma in a hospital bed." _

_"No, you know me, you know I love him. I would never do something to hurt him on purpose. You have to believe me guys." _

She jerked awake with a gasp when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She felt hot and cold all at once, twisted in the blankets of the bed, a throbbing coming from her leg.

"Sorry Miss Sidle, you were trashing around, I didn't want you to hurt yourself." The young nurse said softly.

Sara pushed herself up into a sitting position, pushed the damp hair off of her face and forced a small smile onto her lips. The convicting faces of her firends still whirled around her brain from her nightmare. They all blamed her, they all thought it was her fault.

She blamed herself too, so why did she feel hurt that they might blame her also? She had only seen Brass, and he seemed fine, even though he hand been in the nightmare, saying otherwise. He had told her the others were waiting for her, they missed her, but he might have been saying that just to appease her, keep her calm.

"I have some good news for you today Miss Sidle. Looks like last night was your last with us. Once the Doctor makes his rounds, checks you over and gives you your prescriptions, you are good to go home." The bright nurse beamed.

Sara had forgotten about that promise in the post nightmare haze she found herself in. A smile settled easily over her features. She was going to be back home today, in her own bed, after weeks in hospital.

She untangled herslef from the bedsheets as her blonde haired, blue eyed nurse stood at the foot of her bed filling in details in her chart. She didn't like asking for help, but she knew she needed it in this case. "Do you mind,just helping me into the bathroom, I want to shower before I go home, so I just need some help covering up this cast, and my arm." Sara said as she pushed herself to the edge of the bed.

"How do you expect to wash your hair with one arm like that?"

Sara gave a small shrug. "I'll manage. I'll have to when I'm at home."

"You don't have anyone staying with you at home to help you?" The nurse asked, a little concerned.

"Oh, yeah, I do..." Sara lied. "I just like to do things by myself."

The nurse wasn't too sure, but she didn't pass a comment. She smiled softly and helped Sara from the edge of the bed. She had no intentions of leaving Sara on her own to shower. She may believe that she had the energy to wash herself, but it would be a different story once she was in the shower. That burst would leave her quickly, and she would struggle to stay standing, let alone wash herself. She had seen it too often in patients.

Ten minutes later, she had sat Sara on the small stool in the joining bathroom, the cast wrapped up, and her bandaged arm wrapped up in plastic too, to protect it. Sara felt slightly flushed, but she still felt good. She smiled and thanked her, and said she would be fine from here, until she had finished, then she would need some more assistance.

"Stupid cast." She muttered, bringing a soft chuckle from the nurse.

"You won't be the first or last to make that statement. Has it been itching much?"

"Like a bitch." Sara said with a sigh.

She chuckled once more as she switched on the shower, and as Sara started to protest, she shook her head, refusing to leave, insisting she would stay, simply because she would be in trouble for leaving a patient unattended, with a cast in the shower. Sara seemed to buy it.

Half an hour later, Sara was freshly showered, redressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, her hair still wet but brushed. Her belongings were packed in her small gym bag, beside her on the bed. She was ready to get out of here, to go home.

All she was waiting on now was the Doctor. She waited as patiently as she could, on the end of her bed, tapping her fingers slightly against the frame.

After a few more moments, the whiteand blue flash of the Doctors coat and scrubs came whirled into her room, with a bright hello. Sara felt it had been a decision by the hospital to give her the most cheerful Doctor, when all he did was annoy her. Today though, she was more than happy to see her.

"Well, Sara. This is your last day with us. I can tell you're horribly upset already. I know you'll miss all of us here, especially me, I know I was your favorite. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else." He said as he flipped through her chart, reviewing the last few additions since he had seen Sara last.

"Oh yeah, you know I will miss being poked and prodded every day." She said dryly. She was irritated now, she just wanted out of here.

He laughed slightly as he flipped the chart closed and set it on the adjustable table. He pulled the stool in front of her, and took a look at her leg, still in the cast. "How is it feeling?"

"Itchy." She said bluntly.

He laughed again, knowing she didn't like Doctors, it was obvious from her records she had spent a lot of time in hospitals, especially when she was younger, so he didn't take it to personally. "Well, the cast is still fine, so for now, we will leave it, bring you back in maybe, two weeks, take this one off, check how it has healed, and recast it then if need be."

Sara nodded, glad that she only had two weeks to go, then she could be free of this.

"Now, let me have a look at this arm." He stood now and carefully untied the sling from around her neck, and stretched out her arm. She winced a little, but bit her lower lip.

"Still a bit tender?"

"Yeah." She confirmed.

He ran his nimble fingers up each side of her arm, and back down again. "Okay, it seems to be ookay, just a little bruised still. I'm sure you're sick of the sling, so we can take that off. I'll redress the bandage, one that supports it more, but I would say give it a few more days and you'll be good to take that off. You'll know yourself, if you try to do too much with it, how it feels, what you can take and what you can't take."

Sara just nodded as he started to redress her arm in a tighter bandage, making her grit her teeth a little, but she was glad to be free of the sling. One less restraint for her to deal with.

Once he finished the bandaging, he turned his attention to a few cuts she had, ensuring that they were healing properly. He was a thorough doctor, he wouldn't feel comfortable letting any patient home without knowing that everything was healed, or on the way to being so.

"What's the verdict?" Sara asked, getting a little nervous that maybe she wouldn't be going home today afterall.

"Well, Miss Sidle, I think you are good to go. You're a fighter, that's for sure, you've healed well so far. Just, don't over exert yourself, you are still healing, don't forget that. You need to listen to your body, what it needs."

Sara scoffed slightly. Her body needed one thing, Grissom. "Yeah, I know the drill. I won't do too much, I'll eat right, and make sure I get plenty of rest. Will make sure I cover up my cast when I shower. I know what happens." She had been through this before, she knew what to do.

He smiled slightly and nodded. "Okay, well, I'm going to go write up a prescription for some painkillers, seeing as you don't get the good stuff from here anymore. I'll send a nurse in to give you your discharge papers, you will have to see the physical therapist quickly before you leave, about your crutches, and then you are free to go home Sara."

Finally, she thought. "Thank you."

He smiled as he left, and turned to look at her. "Look after yourself."

She sighed in relief when he left, glad to know that she would be home soon.

Soon enough, the physical therapist was in with her crutches, and when she proved that she could use them (after spending many childhood weeks on them), the therapist was happy. Sara didn't make the comment that she found it painful on her still bandaged arm.

It was still weak, and she knew she would not be able to endure too long on the crutches, but she could brave it out if it meant she was out of here sooner.

Only a few moments after the older physical therapist had left the bubbly nurse from earlier arrived with her prescription and her discharge papers.

She gladly took them, and scrawled her signature where it was required. She listened to the usual rules, nodding every now and then as if she was paying attention.

"Sorry, Miss Sidle?" The nurse said gently to her, drawing her attention.

"Huh? Sorry, what did you say?"

"I just asked who it is that's collecting you? "

"Oh... Yeah, my Uncle... Jim Brass. He's just running a little late that's all. He wants me to meet him at the front door." Sara lied, as convincingly as she possibly could.

The nurse didn't look convinced, and as she opened her mouth to dispute the fact, a soft knock on the door alerted their attention. Both heads turned and Sara smiled at the blonde standing in the doorway.

"Don't worry, Tara. I will make sure Sara goes home with someone trusted." Samantha said softly. She knew just what Sara was like.

Sara gave a small smile, only wanting to go home now. If she never saw another nurse it would be too soon.

"Okay then, look after yourself Miss Sidle. If you have any worries, please don't hesitate to call."

"Don't worry, I won't." She had no intentions at all of calling. "Thank you for your help." She did appreciate their efforts, even though she may have despised most of them for so long, because they would not let her see her friends, her only family. She knew they were only doing their job.

"Trying to pull a fast one, are we, Sara?" Samantha said in a mock scolding tone.

"I am perfectly fine getting a taxi. I just don't want to bother anyone."

Samantha knew this was not a session, but she made a mental note of that comment, and it would be revisited in due course, along with Sara's relationship with her mother. She was not getting away from the demons she faced.

"Well, in knowing you as well as I do, I took the liberty of calling Mr. Brass, and he should be meeting you here in a few moments. I just came to see you off, on your first day back home, and remind you of our deal."

Sara laughed ever so slightly at the woman who would have been the poster for the Aryan race. "Don't worry, I have not forgotten." She wished she could forget, it would be so much easier than having to deal with all of the emotions her past brought, as well as the demons she was facing here in the present, and the doubts she had for her future. Her emotions were taking a beating from all three tenses.

"I'll let you settle back in today and tomorrow, alright? Give you a chance to get a routine of some sorts established, but I want to see you the day after, Thursday, 11am."

Sara nodded, knowing she had to stick to this. It was the one condition she was being allowed out on.

"But, if you need me at all between now and then," She handed Sara an ivory business card. "Here are my details. My office number, my home number and also my cell phone." She did not make a habit of giving these details to every patient of hers, but Sara was an exception.

"Thank you." Sara said with a small smile as she tucked it into her pocket.

Another soft knock came on the door, and Sara's face lit up as she seen the closest thing she had to a Father standing in the doorway. "Ready to go home, cookie?" He asked with a small smile. He was more than happy to be taking her out of here. It had done her no good to be sectioned off from those who cared for her.

"More than you will ever know." She said as she pushed herself up from the bed, taking a hold of the crutches she had been given. At least she could take the elevator to the ground floor, and then it was just a matter of making it to the car, which she hoped Jim would pull around. Once she was home, she could hobble around, without having to use them for too long.

Brass took the small gym bag she had been using, and was now stuffed with pajamas mostly to be washed.

With another promise to Samantha that she would call if anything happened, but if not, she would see her at 11am Thursday morning, they set off down the short hallway, and the set of coded door, from her room to the elevators.

Standing as they waited for the elevator to arrive, Sara looked up to Brass, and he knew exactly what she wanted.

"I don't think that is such a good idea, Sara." Actually, he thought it was a horrific idea. He didn't know how he was going to tell her the worrying news. He at least wanted to wait until tomorrow, let her have one day at home, to ease back in before he hit her with the latest development.

"Jim, please." She begged.

He sighed, mulling over the situation. He should have known she would not leave the hospital without this. The elevator came, but neither made a move towards it, the doors chimed shut, and it was gone, as Sara stood, on a strained, shaking arm, waiting for Jim to give the go-ahead. With or without him, she would do it though.

This would not be a good moment for her, he thought. She would take this harder than anyone else. But, she was going to find out eventually. And maybe it was best she found out now, so she could not be angry at him for trying to keep this from her, so she may allow him to care for her, make sure she was looking after herself.

He sighed heavily, and nodded, as he pressed the button for the elevator once more. "Alright."

Sara smiled, yet inside her stomach was coiled up, a sick feeling bubbling deep inside. Despite how badly it had went the last time, she had to see him again, especially after the nightmares that she had not yet been able to evade.

The elevator chimed once more, and the doors swung open. Brass stepped in, and Sara hopped after him. He hit the button, to bring them two floors up to where Grissom would be.

As the elevator door closed and they started to rise, Sara's stomach started to sink.

"Just remember I'm here for you, Sara, and things will get better." He paused for a moment, and more seriously he looked at her. "Prepare yourself, cookie."

_**xxx**_

**A/N:** Uh-oh. Another cliff hanger? What exactly does she have to be prepared for? And, does she end up needing that card Samantha handed her?

We shall seeeeee!

I know some of you are getting impatient about wanting to know what happened, and wanting to get to her history with Grissom, but trust me, it's all part of the story, when this is all revealed, you will allllll understand!

How are we all feeling after the recent episode, Dead Air? Hope we are all feeling positive about our GSR! Don't worry, they will be fine. *prays*

Anyway, leave a review, let me know what you thought! A few more hints in that chapter as to what the accident was, anyone want to make another guess? Or guess what other shock Sara is in for?

Until next time, guys!


End file.
